In the Ghetto
by Anera527
Summary: He had been born in the ghetto, on the rough side of New York. There Dallas Winston was ignored, abused, mistreated...


_**"In the Ghetto"**_

_As the snow flies  
On a cold and gray Chicago mornin'  
A poor little baby child is born  
In the ghetto  
And his mama cries  
'Cause if there's one thing that she don't need  
It's another hungry mouth to feed  
In the ghetto_

He had been born in the ghetto, on the rough side of New York. There, Dally Winston was ignored, abused, mistreated...

_People, don't you understand  
The child needs a helping hand  
Or he'll grow to be an angry young man some day  
Take a look at you and me,  
Are we too blind to see,  
Do we simply turn our heads  
And look the other way_

Sure, he knew his mother and father by sight, was able to recognize them as his parents... but his mother worked all day. She never wanted to cuddle or give hugs and kisses. At times she outwardly despised her blonde-haired son, saying she wished he'd go die. Dally's father wasn't any better-- if anything, he was worse. He abused his son physically with his fists, but he also abused Dally verbally, threatening him with everything under the sun. The boy couldn't understand.

_Well the world turns  
And a hungry little boy with a runny nose  
Plays in the street as the cold wind blows  
In the ghetto_

_And his hunger burns  
So he starts to roam the streets at night  
And he learns how to steal  
And he learns how to fight  
In the ghetto_

Soon, the boy felt hatred for his parents, and he didn't even feel grief when his mother died of a drug overdose. Soon before her death, Dally started roaming the streets, haunting the alleys like a black alley cat. He learned how to steal and fight, and he was no innocent. When he was only ten, Dally was arrested for stealing. Soon after his sentence was done, he and his father moved to a small Oklahoma town called Tulsa. Once there, Dally wandered the streets alone, like he'd always done. He found there were no rival gangs to fight as there had been in New York, and for a young hood, only in his early teens, that made him dangerous and mean.

But he found friends. Tim Shepard. The three Curtis brothers, Darry, Sodapop and Ponyboy. Two-Bit Mathews. Steve Randle. And last and least, Johnny Cade, abused, mistreated, and hated by his own parents. They were all greasers, and they knew the way of the streets. As the years passed, Dally's blue eyes hardened and turned icy and cold. He clearly showed his hatred for the world in all the fights he got into. Dallas Winston now did understand. He understood that when you got tough, nothing could touch you.

_Then one night in desperation  
A young man breaks away  
He buys a gun, steals a car,  
Tries to run, but he don't get far  
And his mama cries_

There was no point to living, now. Dally realized that as Johnny died. Johnny, who wouldn't hurt a living soul, dying in the hospital from third degree burns. Johnny, who had been the only thing that Dally had loved. As he ran through the dark, rain-soaked streets away from the store he had just robbed, he felt a salty wetness running down his cheeks. The police following him, Dally ran as far as he could, then stopped, jerking his unloaded heater from his belt. He wanted his heart to stop beating, he didn't want to feel the pain. And as he fell to the ground with three bullets in his chest, he knew he would be with Johnny and the Curtis's parents forever in heaven. He felt no sorrow. Dallas Winston understood.

_As a crowd gathers 'round an angry young man  
Face down on the street with a gun in his hand  
In the ghetto_

There was no mother to cry for Dallas Winston, no father who was willing to speak at his funeral. But the gang he left would mourn and be forever changed. Yet he would always be remembered when the youngest Curtis brother's theme for English was published into a book and distributed all over the world. The world would understand Dallas Winston.

_As her young man dies,  
On a cold and gray Chicago mornin',  
Another little baby child is born  
In the ghetto_

Eight months after Dally's death, hundreds of miles away in Florida, a young blonde-haired girl living with her grandmother on the wrong side of town gives birth to a boy. That boy, blonde-haired and blue-eyed like his father before him, will carry on the Winston line and legacy, for no matter what happens, a new Winston child is always born in the ghetto.

A/N: Just yesterday, I was looking at the lyrics of 'In the Ghetto' by Elvis Presley, and I was instantly reminded of Dallas Winston. Dally Winston has always been my least favorite character, but I can honestly say I liked writing this. R&R! Flames are all right.


End file.
